Archive for travel

Vibrate Higher

Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 11, 2018 by JenJuice

Energy is how we are here. Simply physics. Every living organism is a form of energy. Emotions are energy in motion….Movement.

Music is vibration and if the music we are making popular is vibrating at a lower level of consciousness, we are manifesting low-level energies in our World. We must understand that art is the power that evolves us and we need to be very aware of the energy we are supporting to vibrate our World. Because we are all part of the perfection and manifestation of our reality. Vibrate higher. Manifest the highest love. Passion is self-love.
Jen pole

TWA Flight…805

Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 11, 2018 by JenJuice

I often sit and ponder in awe at how I’m still alive. I say that with all due grace and respect. I took my first plane ride ever in 1996 to Germany. I stayed there for months. As I was returning back to Houston, I had a layover at JFK airport in NY. There were no cell phones or internet, but what I had is my intuition. I kept feeling something causing anxiety – not fear, but something big I couldn’t explain and I couldn’t find a way to verbalize it or even stop whatever this feeling was. So, I got on the plane heading back to Houston where I landed (after getting slapped in the nose with the pungent smell of mayonnaise and a man engulfing a mayonnaise and white bread sandwich). I walked out of the plane to meet my family (which were not the type to meet me at any coming home). I was like….”why are all of you so white? (I mean whiter than normal) and sobbing?” They said, “Jenny, you made it home. The flight next to you coming from Paris blew up killing all the passengers next your flight. It was TWA flight 800. And I was flight TWA 805. I made it home.” Home has always been my heart, the truest presence. Life is such a fucking gift and how long and how much does it take to believe that you have purpose to be here? This traumatic event led me to find and meet my birth father. And, for that, I am eternally grateful.
Much love, my dear souls. Enjoy your time and love. It’s special. ❤

Presence (ball matters)

Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , , , , , on August 1, 2018 by JenJuice

Sitting in a hot spring with about 10 older Bulgarian-ish men amidst an open space in a town in Bulgaria. It wasn’t an all male hot spring…it was just that I was the only woman (often, I find myself in similar scenarios). The gentleman sitting next to me had a golden color with a thick Irish-Bulgarian-ish accent..he’s probably gearing 60 at least…but…muscles..and tan and in a quasi speedo…but, you know, held the old man balls in
check.
I sat there feeling the steam on my body and breathing in the presence of this immaculate
setting..mid-concrete…center of a hot spring in some place Bulgaria – I believe it was Varna..but,
it could be some place near there. What I do recall is the steam, and the man that had been in
prison for, like …something that I don’t remember but, it seemed absurd and probably a bit of untruth.
Nevertheless..the sulfur smell finally got to me and I realized I was soaking in dick soup and
decided to exit.
(Photo taken in 2016)
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Jen Again….

Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 20, 2018 by JenJuice

Again and again and I sit in a different space, a different latitude, a different country..yet, it all looks the same. And, I quite find that nowhere I go can I ever change the ways look until I change the way I see them.

I travel miles away to feel…to release….to be fucking vulnerable. To cry. To let go. And, it all looks the same. I found I could never escape me. And, no matter how far I go physically the same me follows me..and the lesson is one thing. Love me. Love myself. Self love is a practice and it’s not taught…fucking love yourself. Love yourself hard and soft. Be your fucking number one. All else will follow…

Gratitude for the waves that hugged me today, I love you. Your flow teaches me all. The current is key….

Findings.

Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , , , , , , , , on January 1, 2018 by JenJuice

You can’t feel an ocean until you stand in one.Koh Samui

The land of Karmic Adventures…

Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , , , , , on January 31, 2017 by JenJuice

Digital Camera

The imperial vows taken by the sea…the oceans – I dive into your ocean…your blue eyes that
were my haven…I found peace.
Staring into the wooden swing dangling from a tree swooping over me…I sway….the air
feels like baby kisses all over my skin…and somehow it feels lathered in meaning.
After all, this isn’t America. This is the land of karmic adventures.

Found(ed). Restless…ly.

Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , , , , , , , on November 9, 2016 by JenJuice

What is it that you are my mind’s eye presently? What is that water that needs a desert? You, the teacher…tell me what is the question I forgot to rescue?

The wonderment of the widow caresses ever so slightly the demised threat – the culture….

…Of the universe-soul (loneliness)….the embodiment of the empty foolish world….but, truth be told..isn’t language designed to help us understand the code…after all?

Wet Spots Matter….

Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 6, 2016 by JenJuice

Finding myself in an institutionalized frat party…not the role of successful backpacking. But, it’s like being held captive to a heart-stained perfume you can’t quite wash off. I’ve bathed and cut the glitter off but the fuck boys still seem to be following me with blazin’ swords out and ready for the war zone. Who you fuckin’ with, boys? Let’s talk. Let’s see what you got with your ego busted up. Losing your hair mid-twenties and yes, fuck as many girls as you can cuz that’s what “experience” is about, right? Sticking your inexperienced dick into as many wet places as possible. What do you think you got fuckin’ with all these girls – who are you, really? Have you seen you before? If not, just a little tip…..wet spots matter.

A town..not so far from the world….you count the currency blown.

Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 4, 2016 by JenJuice

I’ve never quite understood showing tits for beads….I mean, it’s your luscious breasts – your beautiful body. Beads and tits..they just don’t even (com)pair. It’s like these people that take photos of them drinking anything possible – playing drinking games, but who really wins?

Traveling….romanticizing how your self is another self in another country means what? Are you authentic self in or out or out or in or swirling like a spawn. Run, don’t walk, fuck, drink, don’t drive, be, live, spread yourself thin and wildly…another Girl or Boy Gone Wild story…because, what is it about to you? Observing the minds of others or is it just to fuck as many people that you can in as many different countries as possible? We all have a story – what is yours? What makes you special (or not)?

In a sentimental fashion there used to be sentiment. Some place in between the digging our way out of our own way we lost the place we are destined…or have we chosen this speed? Do you not even recognize your way of being? The unaware doll… the unaware being. The choice to be in the darkness of speed. Where do you look for (mind) food when you need to eat? The lurker hiding in the black worlds of the black beaches, dark as midnight without a stun gun. Watch out for those synthetic drugs…some stories are true whether you believe them or not.

What is that we are stressing over? The context of how the train won’t speed up, the way the car in front of you didn’t signal? I didn’t pronounce the word the way you think it should be heard through your ears. The reaction on my face didn’t go to par as to what you think it should, so now you feel rejected? So, what did you eat today? Where is the time you forgot to understand where it is to be present?

The dichotomy of sensationalism and broken down ledges…we try to climb down from our own levies we built for our own protection, but it’s just a crack away from a torrential downpour.

If the only word you have to describe a town was “date-rapey” – I wonder if people would still visit. The backpacker’s guide to life is the lie they all tell themselves – that everything and everyday is absolutely the most “awesome” experience ever. If that is the case….it’s all downhill from there I would surmise…the “Rockstar” lifestyle plays a reel of a story that perhaps isn’t so lustrous after all.

Hotel Wallz…..

Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , , , , , , , , on September 24, 2016 by JenJuice

Throbbing of the hotel room next to me seeping through the walls – her moans increasing like the sounds of a thousand deaths and rebirths….sliding down the foundation. Powerless of her screams…and, surrendering to his needs….

Just a whisper away – and I feel a bit intrusive, though, I’m listening….infringed with the thickness of her orgasmic purrs and my visuals…I’ve pulsated my own thoughts and my own story…..

Thus, the dream versus the reality…we all are dreaming beings…after all.